“I’d sleep in perfect peace, if Rizpah would give me a token.”
“I? what?” and the maiden drew back, offended. Her innocency remembered no token then, but such solicited by her maiden friends, or given at times to her father, a kiss.
“Place thy hand in mine, Rizpah.” She quickly complied, glad she was mistaken, as to her suspicion and blushing within, as she thought how strangely, easily, her mind had had the thought, “Well, now what, knight?”
“Promise me that while I’m permitted to tarry among thy people, I shall have thy heart’s friendship; as freely, as loyally bestowed as if I were thy brother.”
“Canst trust me, a woman, a girl, almost a stranger?”
“I trust thy woman’s heart as Joshua’s men of old trusted Rahab, a wreck, but still a woman. Thou art infinitely more noble than she.”
“But men think us weak, fitful, garrulous.”
“Responsibility makes the weakest of thy sex heroines and pity is the gateway to their hearts. Thou hast my life and my happiness as thy responsibility; dost pity me?”
“Yes: go now. A Gentile hater of my people shall see of what metals Jewish maidens are.”